


Of Piercings and Promises

by OwlBabies



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Punk Greg, Punk Mycroft, Sexual Humor, Teen Greg, Teen Mycroft, mentions of underage alcohol use, mentions of underage smoking, underage piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 23:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2829335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlBabies/pseuds/OwlBabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft goes to get his tongue pierced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Piercings and Promises

**Author's Note:**

> I researched different facts on tongue piercings before and during writing this, if I wrote anything inaccurately please let me know. It would be greatly appreciated.

_Dingalingaling_

Was the jingle of the little bell above the door that echoed through the tattoo and piercing parlor when the door hit it, allowing two teenage boys dressed in leather and ratty denim to waltz in; One by the name of Greg Lestrade, and his boyfriend Mycroft Holmes. Greg was the one in torn up, worn jeans, black scuffed up combat boots, and a green day shirt, his wrists clasped in black leather bracelets, hair sticking up in every direction. Mycroft, on the other hand, was the one in tight dark skinny jeans, black doc martens, and a well-worn leather jacket, that was no doubt his boyfriend's, thrown over a shirt that had the union Jack plastered on it. His fingers were laced with Greg's, his nails painted a red that matched that in his shirt. His hair hung slightly over his dark outlined eyes in a wavy, curly mess, every bit as messy as Greg's, but still had a bit of order to it.

A woman with black hair thrown into a messy bun walked up to the counter upon hearing the little bell go off, she was dressed in black jeans and a grey tank top that allowed her tattoo sleeves to be shown off, not to mention the amount of metal that decorated her face and ears.

“How can I help you boys?” The woman looked the two up and down; neither of them looked, or was for that matter, of age to be in such a place.

Mycroft stepped closer to the graffitied counter and cleared his throat, “I am here inquiring about a tongue piercing.” Already adorning a spiked metal bar through his right brow. 

The woman raised her eyebrows. “May I see a license?”

“I am afraid I am not of age, ma’am, but the owner of this establishment doesn’t see that as an issue. I am Mycroft Holmes; your boss is my uncle. I am aware I am exempt from age limitations, yes?”

The woman raised her eyebrows again, “O-oh yeah. Apologies.”

Mycroft gave that fake smile he was so accustomed to giving. “Not a problem. You were not aware. Now, about that piercing.” 

“Yes. Ok,” The woman dug through a basket from behind the counter and pulled out a laminated chart with different tongue piercings on it. “Been thinking about what you want?”

Mycroft didn’t even need to look at the chart the woman had, “Yes, just a traditional vertical piercing please.”

“Ok. Now legally I have to tell you the health risks and procedures you gotta go through after you get the piercing. Bummer, I know, but by law I have too.”

Mycroft nodded, Greg stepping closer to the counter beside his boyfriend. They went through all the health risks, possible speech impediments, and other cons to getting tongue jewelry. 

“Ok, now for the do’s and don’ts.” She said as she pulled out another laminated paper. “ _Do_ eat soft foods for the first couple days. No sucking out of straws, on candy, nothing. Brush your teeth after all meals. Rinse your mouth with salt water, _not_ a mouthwash, after brushing. You can use ice to ease the swelling, and ibuprofen for the pain. And be sure to wash your hands before you touch the piercing. Easy enough yeah?”

Mycroft nodded.

“Ok. Now the don’ts. No aspirin, mouthwash, don’t touch it, don’t rub it around your mouth or on your teeth directly after…” The woman trailed off, the two boys waiting for her to continue. She looked Mycroft in the eye. “No alcohol. No smoking.”

Mycroft looked a bit put out by this but nodded anyway.

Then the woman looked between the couple. “No snogging.”

Greg’s brows shot up and his mouth dropped. “Hold up hold up! Whoa whoa whoa you sure you still wanna do this??” Greg turned his attention to his boyfriend.

Mycroft looked at Greg, eyebrows raised and eyes widened at Greg’s sudden outburst. “Yes, Gregory. I’ve wanted this for a while now. We can go a few weeks without snogging.”

Greg looked appalled, “Like _hell_ we can!” 

The red head rolled his eyes, “Oh quit being such a drama king, Gregory, honestly.”

Greg was about to continue but Mycroft shot him a look that said all too well he wouldn’t hold a certain promise if the older teen didn’t shut his trap.

The tattoo artist looked highly amused, and waited until given the greenlight to continue. “No oral activities.” She looked between the couple once more.

The older teen’s eyes narrowed. “And what does that entail?”

The black haired woman read on, “No licking anything, sucking, you won’t want to speak a lot right after, and no oral sex.”

Before the woman was even done speaking, Mycroft was being dragged to the door by the shorter boy. “Nope, that’s it we’re outta here.”

“ _Greg!_ ” Mycroft yanked back on Greg’s hold making the other teen stumble. His face was a dark shade of pink, making his freckles stand out. “Control yourself!” He scolded. 

The woman was enjoying this thoroughly, trying to hide her smirk behind the laminated paper as the couple turned back to her. 

Mycroft, on the other hand, was thoroughly frustrated. “Please, ignore my boyfriend. He did not take his medication this morning.”

Greg’s eyebrows furrowed and he cut in, “Medication?? I don’t tak-“

“ _He didn’t take his medication this morning, please ignore him._ ” Mycroft said over him with a dangerous tone, never taking his eyes away from the woman’s. He smiled sweetly, “Now, let’s get on with it yes?”

\-----------------------

Mycroft sat back in the chair while the tattoo artist washed her hands and put on gloves. “Ok, just make yourself comfortable. Take deep breaths to relax.” She pointed to a chart showing the variety of different sizes and types of tongue jewelry. “Which one would you like? Pick from these.” She gestured to the long bars. “To accommodate the swelling you’ll have. Once it’s healed, come back and see me. I’ll fit you with one much more snug.” 

Mycroft pointed to a standard stainless-steel metal bar. “That one, please.”

“Yes, sir.” She replied as she began fitting the new needle with Mycroft’s chosen jewelry. 

Mycroft was nervous and Greg could tell. “You ok?” He placed his hand on his boyfriend’s.

Mycroft nodded slightly and breathed out, “Yes. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure you’re ready?” Greg was asking sincerely, he didn’t want his boyfriend to do something he wasn’t ready for.

The other teen nodded. “Yes.” He breathed out shakily, and then cleared his throat. His whole demeanor changed; the Ice Man arrived, or who he’s known as at school.

Greg knew when his boyfriend closed up his emotions he was trying to be tough, so as long as he was sure, Greg would let Mycroft do whatever it takes to get through it.

“Alright,” the sleeved-lady chimed, “Open wide.” 

\--------------------

A few tears and a little bleeding later, Greg was nursing his wounds from when Mycroft hit him for flipping out when the needle just about went through his boyfriend’s tongue.

Oh and Mycroft had his piercing. And just as the tattooist said, he didn’t feel like talking much at all.

“How ya feeling, babe?” Greg asked as he walked out of the tattoo and piercing parlor with Mycroft.

“H-huthss..” Mycroft turned as red as a beat when hearing his slurred words, making Greg chuckle. Mycroft turned even redder if physically possible before turning away from his boyfriend and walking the other way.

“Wha- My! Baby, wait up, I’m sorry I’m sorry,” He grabbed the taller teen’s hand. “I shouldn’t have laughed. Here, the lady said ice would ease the swelling? Then c’mon, I know what’ll help.” He said as he turned Mycroft around and led him down the street, connected by the hand.

\--------------------

Greg was approaching the colorful booth where Mycroft sat, two cups of ice cream in hand. He smiled as he met the younger boy’s eyes. “Ok, one coffee ice cream for me, and one strawberry for my darling.” Greg said as he slipped in the booth, opposite Mycroft, and slid the requested ice cream across the table to him.

Mycroft took the cup in his hand, red nails standing out against the white paper, and the small spoon in the other. He looked up from his ice cream and smiled sweetly at his boyfriend before taking a small and cautious bite. Greg smiled back in return and engulfed a spoonful of his own. The two dark clothed, leather clad teens looking out of place in the quaint pastels of the ice cream parlor.

“Can I get a ‘thank you’?” Greg hummed rather mockingly.

Mycroft shot him a look.

“Aww c’mon, I bought you ice cream, can I pleeeeaasse have a thank you?” Greg even batted his eyelashes for effect.

Mycroft huffed and readied himself, “hhank yoou.” He slurred and turned as red as his nails. Greg busted into laughter that was quickly replaced with ‘ows’ and ‘yelps’ when   
Mycroft nailed him in the calf.

“Ok ok I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, just how you sound! Haha.” When he was shot some more daggers he threw joking out the window, considering Mycroft never joked around when he was in pain. “Ok ok, I’m sorry. Eat some more ice cream. I know your tongue’s gotta hurt.”

Mycroft only responded by scooping the frozen treat onto his spoon and into his mouth, numbing his tongue wonderfully. 

The two sat together enjoying their ice cream in silence, Greg eventually coaxing some smiles out of the boy across from him, which resulted in Mycroft’s foot stroking Greg’s leg, which he injured earlier, as an apology.

\------------------------------

A few days later and Mycroft was slamming the door to his bedroom, muffing the yells and screams erupting from his mother. She had caught a glimpse of the shiny metal rod protruding through her son’s tongue, even after he had gone to great lengths as to hide his mouth when speaking to her. Naturally, she did not take it well, as Mycroft had expected. Verbal abuses had gone flying, just as fast as Mycroft fled to his room. She had said everything from ‘I’m so disappointed in you,’ to even blaming Mycroft’s friends and boyfriend. At the mention of Greg’s name, and implying he was a problem or had ‘corrupted’ him, Mycroft had nearly bit his tender tongue to keep from telling his mum off.  
He fell back on his bed and let out a large huff. His blood pressure had shot up, and he was now thoroughly stressed. Though, unfortunately, he couldn’t smoke, and he couldn’t drink, and he wasn’t about to break the rules when it came to this; it would already take this piercing a while to heal, he didn’t need any more inconveniences. It was already an inconvenience that he couldn’t snog his boyfriend…or do... _other_ activities. 

Mycroft let out another frustrated huff and settled for grabbing his phone as opposed to putting holes in the wall; fuck could he use a cigarette. He pulled up the keypad and punched out Greg’s number-never really liking to flip through his contacts; too easy- and pressed the mobile to his ear.

Greg answered within two rings. “Hey, babe.”

“Hello…” Mycroft’s tone was anything but friendly.

“Are…you ok?” 

“Mum saw my piercing.”

“Damn…well…we knew that would come. Are you ok?”

“I’m coming over.”

“O-oh ok, my door’s op-,” Greg heard the other end of the line cut off. _Poor thing,_ He thought; he couldn’t be mad at him, his tongue was probably still sore, he constantly had to hear his mum go on about how much she disagreed with how Mycroft was living his life, and he needed a fag desperately; It could be heard in his voice.

When Mycroft arrived at his boyfriend’s, he didn’t bother knocking, he walked into his bedroom and instinctively flung himself upon the messy bed with a muffled groan.

Greg sat down beside his limp boyfriend’s body, hand resting on his back. “Hey.”

Mycroft turned his head to the side to look up at Greg, pouty lips and big blue eyes in gear. 

Lord, stupid what his ginger’s puckered lips could make him do. Mycroft could ask him to do the most ridiculous thing in the world and all it took was a quirk of his lips and batting his pretty eyelashes and by god if Greg didn’t do it then.

Mycroft wasn’t asking for anything- well not yet at least, at the moment he just wanted the ultimate sympathy from his messy-haired boyfriend, and looking adorable was the way to get it.

“She says such mean things sometimes, Gregory…” He used his cutest pitiful tone that got him everything he wanted from Greg; whether it be actions or the responses he wanted to hear.

Greg instantly melted; putty in his boyfriend’s hands. _God, he’ll make a bloody fantastic politician,_ was what he always thought when he was aware of his manipulation.

“I know, baby..” Greg’s tone comforting as he threaded his fingers through Mycroft’s auburn locks. “She just doesn’t get it. And you know what? I bet she’s jealous, ‘cause she never had the fun we do. You always tell me how uptight your mum’s folks are during the holidays and the ‘disapproving’ looks they give you, yeah? Well they were probably strict and the ‘you will act the way I want you to act’ kind of parents.”

“Then why is _my_ mum that way to me, then, if she grew up not being herself?” Oh could Mycroft work that pitiable tone.

“She just doesn’t want you to get hurt, My. She’s glad you’re being you, she just doesn’t want you mixed up in the wrong people,” Greg shrugged, “I dunno. It’s a parent thing.”  
Mycroft sat up with a huff. “But I should be able to get the piercings I want. I’m capable of making these decisions.” He said as he kept his head low but looked up into Greg’s eyes for effect.

“You are, love.” Mycroft’s puppet-for the time being- wrapped his arm around him. “She just a bitch sometimes, all mums can be.” He murmured as he rested his chin on the red head’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

That was apparently what Mycroft wanted, because the younger teen smiled sweetly and gave a satisfied hum before turning his head to fit his lips against Greg’s, unfortunately having to keep the kisses, at least, chaste.

\--------------------------------

Six months and exactly four days later- Greg had been counting- and Mycroft had made his way back to the small tattoo and piercing parlor. 

Mycroft was told his tongue healed perfectly, that he had done everything right; Mycroft was normally on top of things when his health was concerned- well, minus the drinking and smoking, but that wasn’t the point. 

After the long silver rod had been removed and a piercing of Mycroft’s choice took its place, and once the red-head sauntered out of the dimly lit parlor and into bright sunlight, phone was in hand. 

His tongue snaked out from between his lips, exposing a short silver rod with black nobs on either end that contrasted with his pink tongue. He lowered his eyelids as his arm stretched out, snapping a picture with Greg’s name all over it.

Greg received the picture, and felt a fission run through him; fuck did he really have a kink for this? Or was it just that his boyfriend could make every damn thing attractive? More than likely option two.

Before he could reply, he received another that promptly read from Mycroft, ‘I believe it’s time I live up to my promise I made so many long months ago, don’t you think, Gregory, dearest?’

The t-shirt Greg was wearing started feeling way too hot, and his fitting jeans began feeling a bit _too_ fitting…

To not keep his boyfriend waiting, Greg responded quickly. ‘Please, as fast as you can.’

Mycroft responded after a couple beats, ‘Now, now, don’t rush me, Gregory, love.’

Greg’s veins were rushing with anticipation. ‘Do I have to beg?’

‘Now that doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all.’

Greg just smirked. ‘Just get your arse over here.’

Mycroft text back, ‘Don’t you mean, “Just get your sexy arse over here?”’

The older boy just huffed a laugh, ‘Oh shut it you pompous bastard.’

Before Greg knew it, Mycroft was waltzing into his room in his tight jeans, stark white Sex Pistols t-shirt with the words ‘God save the Queen’ plastered across the royal’s face, leather cuffed wrists, and inky black rimming his eyes. 

Greg looked up to behold the sight- He was sure nothing could compare to how amazing Mycroft was, in every way possible.

Mycroft stalked his way over to his prey, licking his lips slowly so his boyfriend could get a good long look of the gleaming metal spheres. 

Greg’s half lidded eyes gazed over him, his lips cocked in a smirk. “My, my, look at Mr. Stud.”

“Hmhmhmhmm..” Mycroft hummed. “Gotta be one to know one.” He winked, resting his hands on either of Greg’s knees, pushing them apart slightly. 

The older boy watched his every move, leaning back on the bed, elbows propping him up. “Arrogant sod.” He managed with a gravelly voice.

The red-head between his legs got down on his knees, hands travelling up Greg’s thighs. “Is that any way to speak to your boyfriend? Especially since it’s been _so long_ …” Mycroft purred. 

Greg let out a soft moan, he was near gone. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Mycroft let out a hum. “Not recently, hmhmhm. Now,” He reached for Greg’s zip, “What’s say I fulfill my promise now?” And with an evil grin, the zip came down, and Mycroft’s metallic probed tongue snaked out.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the cut off like that. ;) Hope you liked anyway!


End file.
